


Now That You're Mine

by orphan_account



Series: Teen Wolf ficlets [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death In Dream, Dream Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Random & Short, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:39:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a short, prompt-inspired blurb of a fic written in under an hour, so I trust y'all will hold it to appropriate standards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now That You're Mine

**Author's Note:**

> I [wrote this on tumblr first](http://meranaamfangirl.tumblr.com/post/73382211241/rashaka-okay-so-weve-all-squeed-over-the-idea); I'm just reposting it here. Rashaka posted this: _Okay so we’ve all squeed over the idea of what if Allison had a sex dream of Derek and Kate instead of Isaac and Kate… But what if Derek had a similar dream of Allison? I don’t think I’ve read a Derek POV dream fic before. Or seen a gifset for it._
> 
> And what follows is the result. :-) I'm writing an unrelated one-shot with these two and I thought it'd be a fun exercise.

It’s 3 a.m. and Derek can’t sleep.

Not that that’s at all unusual; he’s a werewolf and night is his natural element, but tonight’s different. Tonight’s a total eclipse.

The last time, they were all lucky. It only lasted a few minutes and most of them came out alive, with certain notable exceptions that he refuses to think about. This time, it’s going to last an hour and eighteen minutes. Well, technically the eclipse will last three hours, thirty-five minutes, but the total occlusion will last seventy-eight minutes, and he’ll feel every one of them.

Scott actually offered to send Allison over to watch over him, like a damned babysitter, if babysitters were as inclined to stab their charges as protect them. Derek laughed in his face.

"I’d like to survive till morning, thanks."

Scott gave him an exasperated look, though not without understanding. “You know better. She’s not like that.” The  _anymore_  at the end of the sentence remained unspoken. “Stiles is coming over to my place. He said he didn’t trust me to remember to use my inhaler but I think he’s really a little bit worried. So you wouldn’t be the only one with backup.”

"Sure." Derek clapped a hand on Scott’s shoulder. "I’ll take my chances solo."

Which is how he came to be awake at 3 a.m., stubbornly refusing to stare at the windows but repressing a flinch every time a cloud dulls the light silvering the edges of his furniture.

"Well, that’s pathetic," purrs a woman’s voice from the pillow next to his.

Unsurprised, he turns his head to look at Kate. She’s a familiar visitor. “What are you talking about now?”

She mock-pouts, shaking back her mane of hair as she sits up. “Poor widdle Derek, scared of the dark. Honestly, if I’d been feeling generous that night, I’d have made sure you ended up dead along with the rest of them. It seemed more painful for you to allow you to live with the guilt, though, so I went with that instead.”

"Good guess. Congratulations." He throws an arm over his eyes. "Go ahead and get it over with."

"Oh, sweetie. You should know better than to tell me what to do." Her breath wafts across his ear as she bends to whisper. "It only makes me contrary."

Despite himself, he inhales her scent. No perfume, not even soap smell, nothing that makes it easier for a superhuman nose to pick her out in a crowd, but there’s always the metallic tang of gunpowder there. Soon, when the moon hides its face, he won’t even be able to smell that.

"You know what I think?" she continues in a conversational tone, withdrawing once again. "I think you like it." One of her hands trails down his naked torso to trace a coy line just beneath his waistband. "It’s not enough for you to indulge in self-flagellation. You need someone else to help out."

Derek grits his teeth together, but he can’t quite silence the growl that rumbles in his chest. He knows better, because any reaction at all fuels her sadism, but he’s never been very good at pretending. Though God knows he’s had plenty of opportunity to practice, given the frequency of her appearances.

A bright pain slices through the skin over his heart, and he jolts. Kate’s laugh burns like salt. “There we go.”

It only gets worse from here. He presses his arm more firmly over his eyes. He might not be able to deny her the satisfaction of his response, but at least he doesn’t have to watch her enjoying it.

"Let’s see what I can manage tonight." The tip of the knife skims his stomach, not quite hard enough to draw blood. "I’ve always—"

The words cut off so abruptly he furrows his brows in puzzlement. The gush of liquid warmth onto his chest has him whipping his arm back and propping himself up on his elbows to stare in disbelief. Kate clutches at her throat, trying to hold in the blood spilling down her wrists, but the arrow lodged there makes that impossible. Her eyes glaze over. The hand that holds the arrow gives a vicious shove, propelling her onto the floor. Still incredulous, Derek gazes up at Allison, who offers him her usual defiant expression.

"You killed her," he says, stupid with shock.

She raises her eyebrows. “So?”

When he looks down at the floor again, Kate’s body is gone. A blink, and the blood’s gone too.

"Hey." Allison seizes his chin and turns his head back toward her. "She needed to go. So she’s gone." With a tiny smirk that has her dimples making an appearance, she adds, "Apparently you couldn’t protect yourself from her, and  _nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes_.”

"Somehow, I pictured you using your Code against me, rather than on my behalf."

She’s straddling him now, weaponry vanished and hair down around her shoulders. “Why are you wasting time talking?”

Before he can answer, she bends down and presses soft lips to his.

Derek’s incapable of surprise or anger or any of the things he’d expect to be feeling. He responds to the gesture by opening his mouth and licking into hers. She shudders when their tongues touch, fingers burying into his hair as she stretches out over him. They’re both naked now. He can’t stop touching every inch of her lithe body that he can reach. Her tiny moans of appreciation spur him on. The press of her breasts into his chest, the smoothness of her legs against his own, the wetness where she’s rubbing herself on his cock is making him crazy, and he’s pretty much convinced he’ll die if he doesn’t get inside her soon. He digs his fingers into her hips, trying to keep her from wriggling quite as much, because if she keeps that up it’s going to be over embarrassingly quickly, but she takes advantage of his hands’ occupation to reach down and caress his erection before she angles up, and—

Holy fucking shit.

Derek sucks in as much air as his failing lungs will allow, but Allison refuses to give him time to catch his breath, balancing with her hands on his shoulders and a wicked smile gracing her face. Her pale skin glows in the moonlight, and she rides him with a brutally efficient rhythm. “See?” She leans down to lick up his neck, from his shoulder to his ear, and he bucks beneath her. Without pausing her hips’ motion, Allison nuzzles his jaw and laughs, though it’s so quietly even his hearing can barely catch it.

"I’ll protect you, Derek." Her hair falls on either side of them, its ends tickling his face and catching on his scruff. "She can’t touch you. Not now that you’re mine."

A faint warning bell rings in the back of his mind at the words, but it’s drowned out by the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears. Heat spirals up into his gut from where they’re joined. He’s so close, but it chafes his pride to think that she might not come first, so he slides his hand down to find her clit. She laughs again when he circles it with his thumb. “Oh, God, that’s perfect.”

She tightens around his length—

And he opens his eyes, alone, with his hand already moving on his cock. He’s so close that he doesn’t even fully wake up before he comes.

Once his heartbeat calms and he can actually put together a coherent thought, he grimaces in self-disgust and starts to clean up. How old is he, sixteen? For that matter, how old is Allison? He tries desperately to remember whether or not she’s turned eighteen by now, and to determine exactly how shitty he should feel about this in the morning.

A noise in the hallway puts a temporary end to self-recrimination. He pads to the door without making a sound, then flings it open.

Allison spins up from her sitting position to her feet in a move so graceful it looks like dancing, arrow already notched and ready.

They stare at each other a moment. Derek speaks first. “I told Scott no.”

Allison raises her chin. “He decided he didn’t care.”

"Go home, Allison." He can see the flutter of her pulse in her neck. She presses her lips together in apparent exasperation. Against his will, the thought intrudes:  _would her mouth taste as good in real life?_

 _Stop it,_ he orders his brain.  _You must have smelled her. That’s why the dream changed. You caught her scent when she came into the hall. It’s not because you’re really attracted to her._

Allison finally answers. “No. I’m doing this because Scott asked. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

After another tense pause, Derek nods and stands aside. “Then come in.” She hesitates. “There’s no sense in you standing in the hallway. The window’s a better vantage point. Get inside the apartment.”

He can tell his brusque tone rankles, but she slings her quiver over her shoulder and walks in anyway. She settles onto the floor next to the windows, body angled so she can see best. Not knowing what else to do, Derek sits down on his bed.

"Go back to sleep." She keeps her gaze trained at the ground outside, fingers lax on her bowstring. "I’m not here to be your guest."

Derek doesn’t like it, but he lies down rather than argue.

It’s only when his eyes turn to his clock that he realizes the truth. It’s midway through the eclipse. The dream couldn’t possibly have been the product of her scent, since his nose is for all intents and purposes human at the moment. Something else triggered it. He rolls over, careful to keep the movement casual, and looks at Allison, trying to figure out what could have changed.

She never glances at him, not even when she leaves, but he watches her until the door slides shut.


End file.
